A Marauding Future
by AnzalRK
Summary: Minerva McGonagall faces the Marauders as they appear for their Career Advice session. As the day stretches, the Transfiguration Professor realizes that the Wizarding World, amidst the war and prejudice, has left even the most care free of the students at guard. My take on the career advice, featuring the Marauders.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One:**

 _ **James**_ _ **Potter**_

Minerva McGonagall sighed in exasperation as James Potter stumbled inside her office, his expression indignant. It was evident that somebody had pushed him inside as a practical joke; the shuffling of many robes and Peter's failure at stifling his laughter confirmed her suspicions.

On top of that, James Potter had the nerve to play it down as if nothing had happened.

'May I come in, professor?' He asked, flustered, with his feet already planted several foot inside her office.

McGonagall pursed her lips and motioned for him to take a seat. He grinned back at the shadows on the door to the office and took a seat. Minerva waved her hand irritably and the door shut, leaving behind a trio of indignant Marauders.

'Before you waste any more of my time,' McGonagall snapped 'I will begin with the session.'

A drawer opened of its own accord and a sheaf of parchments flew on top of her desk.

'If we overlook your constant ignorance to the written rules, your tendencies to initiate a pillow fight during your Divination classes and your inept skills at potion making, you could be termed as quite a good student, with various career options. Of course, you'd need a little grooming at charms but you're doing more than what's expected of you.' She spoke fluently, frowning at the parchment resting on her palm.

'I want to be an Auror!' James exclaimed excitedly and grinned at the door, apparently forgetting that it was closed.

McGonagall looked up wearily.

'It's as if there are no other professions in the Wizarding World.' She grumbled. 'Potter, I can't see you becoming an Auror. There are screening processes that you will be evaluated on should you fulfil the first wave of criterion and apply. They are not just looking for academically gifted students. They are looking for warriors, with the darkness that surrounds us at the moment. And they take authority very seriously, you don't.' She finished, waiting for him to express his displeasure at her lack of confidence in him. He grinned, instead.

'You know me too well, professor. But these are school rules that I disobey. If it is for fighting against... whatever they are, I am willing to change,' He declared firmly, a new light burning in his hazel eyes. 'I have seen my friends lose their family to this war and I don't want to lose mine. Count me against them.'

McGonagall blinked, 'Potter, there are various other - safer - streams that you can pursue. Besides, you hate potions. And I can guarantee you a sky high success if you ever land on a Quidditch field.'

For a second, James wavered. He imagined himself emerging through the stands, a broomstick in his hands with rain and storm thundering around, lost in the echo of fifty thousand people cheering his name, one of them a certain redhead - face shining with admiration.

Then the same light burned again and he spoke, 'I have decided professor, I will fight against them. Whether as an Auror or as a wild card vigilante. I can't go around riding a broomstick while the Wizarding World is on the verge of collapsing.'

McGonagall sighed and motioned for him to stand. 'I will give you a guide that will help you get through the screening processes and a report of how much you need to improve academically to fulfil their application requirements. You are good to go.' She said.

James thanked her enthusiastically and prepared to leave but turned at the last moment, his hands an inch away from the door handle.

'Professor, maybe I could become the greatest Quidditch player of all time after I help you all defeat the death eaters.' He winked.

'Ask Black to stop giggling and tell him it's time for his session.' McGonagall spoke tightly as James bowed sarcastically and left.

Another one of her students, giving up a life of luxury to embrace one of pain.

So young to be fighting so many, she thought wearily as she visualized herself cheering for the greatest Chaser of all time, perhaps, James Potter; in a future never to come.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2:**

 _ **Sirius Black**_

'Sit down, Mr. Black,' Minerva McGonagall spoke, her eyes trained on the parchment spread out in front of her. Her instructions went unnoticed as Sirius Black had already lounged on the chair facing the professor, even before her command.

Finally professor McGonagall tore her eyes away from the parchment to study the grinning face of her young pupil, Sirius Black.

She frowned in disapproval; the scarlet and golden tie hanging loosely around his neck, his shirt untucked and unkept without the final coating of his school robes, a carefree grin stretching on his face and his fingers drumming on the armrest of his plush chair.

'Might I remind you, Mr. Black that you have appeared for your career consultancy session and not to showcase your vocal talent.' McGonagall snapped to drown out the voice of Sirius as he hummed a sweet melody, grinning stupidly.

'Oh, no need for a reminder professor,' He began, 'you've written me a letter five times this week, reminding me the exact date and time for this session.'

'Naturally, considering you often fail to show up even at detentions.'

'Or maybe you were really looking forward to my charming talks.' Sirius suggested.

He flashed a grin as McGonagall sniffed angrily.

'Let us not fool around, Mr. Black. I have a long list of students to attend to, including your friend Remus Lupin, in a short span of time,' She cleared her throat as Sirius opened his mouth to interrupt her again.

'Normally, I would start by suggesting possible career schemes for the students based on their performances. But it seems that no matter how incompetent with the school rules you might be, you've still managed to scrape at least the minimal standards set by the professors to allow you to take their NEWTS. This, and your exceptional performances in your Transfiguration and Defense Against the Dark Arts clear your path for a lot of interesting choices.'

Sirius' eyes gleamed with excitement and pride.

'I want to become an Auror.' He exclaimed.

McGonagall frowned, 'There are other screening processes that you will be judged on.'

'I am sure they would be no trouble for James and I.' He waved it off.

'Sirius, have you thought about it before? Or is it just an irrational decision bec-because of the recent events regarding You-know-who?'

'Yes!' He said, 'it's the perfect time to help out the Ministry contain them; to fight for the Light! The perfect time to.. to prove to them that I am no Bellatrix!'

McGonagall frowned sadly, 'I don't think you have the right reasons for pursuing this career, Black.'

Sirius winced, 'You dont want me to..?'

McGonagall raised her eyebrows, 'It is not for me to want anything, Bla-'

Sirius stood up, 'So that's what it is. Always, 'Black' and never Sirius. That's what I am, a Black; and that is how I am supposed to end. No place for me in the Light because the name Black is a shade too dark.'

'Siri-'

'I'll prove it to you, and the rest of the world, professor - I am more than just an old name.' He declared, his voice low, as he trudged slowly out of her office, his shoulders slumped.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3:**

 _ **Remus Lupin**_

'You're late, Mr. Lupin.' Greeted the reproving tone of Minerva McGonagall.

Remus smiled a tired, sheepish smile and entered her office, waiting for further instructions patiently and politely.

'Take a seat.' McGonagall ordered distractedly, her eyes fixated on the parchment stretched on her desk.

Remus seated himself, not uttering a word and just observing. Professor McGonagall appeared to be tired which was natural, considering the amount of students she had counseled that day, two of them being James and Sirius. Explains the headache.

'Your performance in your OWL Examinations would make your future open to many fields, Mr. Lupin. Especially your - and your friends' - abilities in Transfiguration, which I would consider has exceeded any limitation boundaries I had set up for your marauding group.'

Her eyes glinted beneath her spectacles. 'Anything you'd like to say about that, Mr. Lupin?'

'U-Um.. thank you..?' Lupin stammered, not quite appreciating the line of conversation at the moment. McGonagall frowned at the lack of information and continued to scrutinize the Marauder in front of her.

After a vicious battle of will, McGonagall finally gave up and sighed.

'As I had said earlier, Mr. Lupin, your academic performances would leave you with a wide range of career options in the future. Your turn now - what do you think.' McGonagall enquired.

Remus bit back the, 'I think that the newly promoted Pudmore United side is truly fantastic,' and instead stammered, 'I.. I don't know.'

'Your don't know?' McGonagall snapped.

'Mr. Lupin, we both know that we're not here to have fun. Do you have a career option in mind that you'd like to pursue? Perhaps a curse breaker, an Auror?'

For the first time that afternoon, Lupin smiled.

'I have a lot of things on my mind, professor. None of which I could achieve.' He declared, soft yet firm.

McGonagall's eyes softened.

'Remus, you can achieve anything you aspire if you simply work towards it.'

Lupin's eyes flashed.

'Not here, no. We both know we're not here to have fun.' Lupin quoted, eyes losing the humor, yet a smile crinkling his features.

He looked her in the eyes.

'We both know that it's useless. The Ministry is debating on whether people like me should be privileged to opportunities as we speak. Debate is just a formal word.

We both know, professor, that nobody is going to spare a glance at my résumé. They would be more interested and disgusted at my... Monthly absence.'

McGonagall remained speechless as Lupin politely apologized, left his seat and casually walked out of her office.

'Not a curse breaker or an Auror, Remus. You'll one day become a colleague of mine.' McGonagall vowed as Peter Pettigrew scrambled in.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter **4:**

 _ **Peter Pettigrew**_

Peter didn't have the time to register the look of despair on Remus' face as he scrambled inside Professor McGonagall's office, naturally tripping himself. The older Witch had her mouth set into a thin line which were the initial indications that she was not pleased with her last three sessions, facing back to back a trio of rebellious Marauders. Unfortunately for Peter, several other indications for the same followed.

'Well? There's a reason I have seat opposite to mine!' She snapped as Peter hurried to sit down. His eyes watered as he, in a haste, accidentally sat on the armrest of his chair, but he quickly shoved it aside, not keen on infuriating the Professor even more.

An uncomfortable silence for Peter loomed over the office as McGonagall angrily flipped through the parchments on the table separating Peter from the angry witch, occasionally muttering an incoherent, 'Wizarding... Prejudice... Stupid'.

Peter almost muttered an I agree, if nothing to calm down his professor a bit, but thought better of it.

'Potions, disastrous,' McGonagall's sharp voice made him yelp, an oddly squeaky voice like that of a pale, old mouse 'Defense Against the Dark Arts; unacceptable at practical magic, Divination; would be an achievement to even consider it a classroom with James Potter attending it.'

By now Peter had contemplated making a run for it. Perhaps the other three Marauders had some kind of a stand off with McGonagall and he could coax them into a duel to death with her? It'd save him at least. Before he could decide between bolting out of the room and turning into his animagus form, McGonagall spoke once again, this time much in a much calmer tone, 'The only thing you are remotely good at is Charms and Professor Flitwick appreciates your talent in that area. You're doing academically just fine in Transfiguration and, like the rest of your brood, have somehow managed to master it's practical principles,' She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. 'What do you think is the best career choice for yourself?'

Peter who had been chewing his nails nervously, stuttered a weak, 'I.. I d-dont know...'

McGonagall's nostrils flared, 'That is what your friend said,' She muttered.

She glanced at Peter, who had closed his eyes and had started praying and sighed, 'Charms and Transfiguration goes well together. You are good at both, an unlikely combination but it could enable you a great deal of opportunities at adventurous fields, such as a curse breaker. But for that, you would require a basic understanding of Ancient Runes.'

'It would - what?' Peter whispered, amazed.

McGonagall frowned, 'It would give you quite a future if you have ever considered being a curse breaker.' She spoke slowly, as if talking to a new born.

Peter's eyes shined with anticipation. For weeks, since the arrival of the notice, he had dreaded this session, another bitter reminder that he's the weakest wheel of the four infamous Marauders with just about zero changes of a secure future. But here he was, being told that if he worked hard for it, he might achieve an adventurous job. He nodded numbly, imagining himself in a long overcoat, paving his way through an army of Cursed mummies with relative ease and grinned stupidly.

McGonagall frowned yet again, concerned for the mental state of her pupil and spoke, 'You may leave. I will prepare a report that will guide you to the requirements and a list of books that you might want to have a look at.' She dismissed.

Peter stood up and turned around, imagining a blast behind him, flying mummies wailing for the pain he had caused them with just a simple flick of his wand and strutted out.

'Peter.' A gentle voice called.

He broke out of a vicious arm battle with a three thousand year old war mage and turned around.

'You are no little than your best friends. They would say, and believe, the same.'

Peter was so stunned, he walked face first into a curtain of red hair - a very angry Lily Evans with a very fake bad boy impression of James Potter stumbling behind her.

 **A.N:** _This is not the end._


End file.
